Impossible Choices
by Lisa66
Summary: During the investigation of a case Steve faces impossible choices. Story Complete. Thanks so much for your kind reviews.
1. A Murder For The Headlines

**Disclaimer:  The show and the characters belong to CBS and Viacom. They are merely being borrowed for this piece of fan fiction.**

**Author's Note:  This is my first piece of fan fiction.  Any constructive criticism and help will be gladly accepted.  Many thanks, to a special lady who has willingly shared her talent and her time to help me write this story.  Her encouragement and friendship gave me the courage to do this.**

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**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 1 - A Murder For The Headlines**

It was a typical October morning in Malibu.  The fog from the night before was still visible on the horizon and the air had a slight chill.  Mark stood looking out the window at the lone figure on the deck.  He knew he should go out and encourage him to come in to the warmth of the house, but one of the few times Steve ever relaxed was when he was in close proximity to the ocean.  With a deep sigh, he opened the door and walked to stand beside his son.  "Good Morning, Son."  There was an almost imperceptible nod of Steve's head to acknowledge his presence.  "There is certainly a chill in the air this morning."  Again the slight head movement.  "Steve, I know you are feeling better but you are a long way from recovered won't you please come inside where it's warmer?"  Finally Steve turned to look at his father and, as their gazes locked, Mark almost looked away from the tear stained face.  He had never seen his strong stoic son look so devastated.  How could he possibly help him?

**Two Weeks Earlier**

"Dad, I'm home.  What's for supper?"  As he bounded up the stairs towards the kitchen Steve couldn't suppress the grin that split his face.  His dad stood in the kitchen in full kitchen regalia.  He not only had on his normal apron but he also had on a chef's hat.  

As he turned to face his son, Mark smiled and waved a greeting.  "Jesse and Amanda should be here soon and dinner is almost ready.  Tonight we eat Mediterranean.  "Uhmmmm… wow that… uhhh… sounds good, Dad."  At that moment Steve's phone rang.  "Sloan here."  Mark saw Steve's brow wrinkle and instinctively knew that Steve would not be joining them for dinner.  As Steve ended the phone call he sighed heavily as he flipped the cell phone closed.  

"Got a new case, Son?"  Steve didn't immediately respond.  "Steve?"  

Steve looked towards his dad.  "I'm sorry what did you say?"  

"I asked, if your call was about a new case?"  

"Yeah, Dad, that was Cheryl.  We have a 9 year old boy whose mother found him in the backyard with his throat slit."  Mark shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and anger.  He would never understand what could drive someone to harm a child, much less murder one in such a horrible manner.  He knew Steve was good at what he did because he was able to remain detached from the emotions that surrounded the murders he investigated.  The one thing that could always pierce that armor was the murder of a child.  

"Do you want me to go with you?"  

"No Dad, Jesse and Amanda will be here soon.  Enjoy your dinner and if I get home early enough we can talk then."

As Steve drove down the tree-lined street, he couldn't help but think that this was the stereotypical middle class American street.  Bad things weren't supposed to happen here.  His vision zeroed in on the neat house with the well manicured yard;  he wryly mused that all that was missing was the white picket fence.  As he parked on the street he saw Cheryl walking down the drive to meet him.  

"Hey, partner," she said as she approached the car.  

"Hey, yourself.  "What, have you got so far?"  

"This is the Rayburn residence.  Michael and Sharon both 34.  The deceased is their son Kevin; he was 9.  They also have a daughter Kendra who is 7.  Mrs. Rayburn is 7 months pregnant."  

"Mom and the kids were home?"  

"Kevin was playing in the backyard and Mrs. Rayburn and Kendra had come out front to work in the flowers." 

"And they didn't hear anything?"  Steve asked in a faintly disbelieving tone.

"No, they said they didn't.   Mrs. Rayburn and Kendra finished with the flowers and went in to start dinner.  The mother didn't see Kevin out the back window so she went to look for him.  That's when she found the body."

Steve sighed.  "Ok let me take a look out back and then let's talk to the mother again."  As he turned to walk away Cheryl rested her hand lightly on his arm.  At his questioning look, she felt slightly embarrassed.  He was, after all, a seasoned homicide detective but then so was she, and she was certainly glad she hadn't eaten yet when she viewed the body.

  "Steve, it's pretty gruesome I just wanted you to be prepared."  

A slight smile that lifted one corner of his mouth indicated his opinion of her comment "Cheryl, I have been doing this a long time and have seen a lot.  I think I can handle this."

He was wrong.  The child lay sprawled close to a large tree.  His face was frozen in a mask that Steve could only describe as disbelief.  There didn't appear to be any obvious signs of a struggle.  The yard was surrounded by a privacy fence and in what was a rarity for Southern California, it was a decent sized backyard.  He dropped to one knee by the small body and observed an average sized boy with black hair and green eyes.  Eyes that at one time had probably sparkled with mischief and merriment but now only seemed to bore into Steve's soul.  He broke the eye contact to look at the fatal wound in the neck.  Whoever had done it, had known what they were doing.  They made sure the cut was deep enough to hit the jugular.  The child had never stood a chance.  He was glad Amanda wasn't on duty; this one would have been hard on her.  Hell, it was hard on him.  He stood up and began to walk the perimeter of the yard.  In his mind's eye, he could see the boy as he had been only a short time ago laughing and playing.   This should have been the boy's safe haven, instead it had turned into a deathtrap.  He looked towards the house and saw Cheryl waiting for him.  With one last look around the yard he moved towards her, and they continued into the house and on towards the family room.

The Rayburns sat on the couch.  Michael with an arm around Sharon.  Kendra sat off to the left of her father and towards the side of the couch.  Sharon was weeping softly, and Michael's eyes were red rimmed.  Kendra appeared to be almost detached from the entire situation.  Steve tried to make eye contact with her and offer a reassuring smile but it proved futile.  She would not make eye contact.

"Mr. and Mrs. Rayburn, I'm Lt. Steve Sloan.  First, let me say how sorry I am for your loss.  Do you feel up to answering some questions for me?"

Mr. Rayburn looked up and said, "We will do whatever it takes to catch the animal that did this."

 "Ok but if at any point you want to stop please tell me.  Mrs. Rayburn, can you tell me about your day?"

She never lifted her head and in a voice heavy with tears she began to reconstruct her day.  Steve listened to the details intently hoping that someone or something that she described would set off his warning bells.  As she reached the events that had happened after she arrived home with the kids, he leaned forward as if that would somehow make the details more vivid.  As Mrs. Rayburn continued to speak Steve found his eye's drifting towards Kendra.  In those eye's so like her brother's, Steve saw a darkness and a sadness that he knew would haunt the child her entire life.

At the conclusion of her story Steve paused for a moment to allow Mrs. Rayburn to regain her composure.  "So once you and Kendra went out front, neither of you saw or heard Kevin until you went looking for him?"

"Yes, that's correct."  

Steve glanced back over his notes trying to decide if it was the best time to question Kendra.  He quickly realized that there probably was never going to be a 'best time'.  "Mr. and Mrs. Rayburn, would it be ok if I asked Kendra some questions?"  

They shared a glance, and with a slight nod the father indicated his approval.  He reached towards his daughter and gave her a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.  "Kendra, I need you to talk to this man; he wants to help us find out what happened to your brother."  The child looked at her parents her face a picture of apprehension.  "Kendra, it's ok," said her father.

Steve knelt down in front of the child and very softly asked, "Kendra, can you tell me if any strangers have been hanging around your school?"  

Dark green eyes peeked tentatively out of long fringed lashes.  "No."  

"What about when you and Kevin have been playing out in the yard?"  

"No."  

"Can you tell me what happened when you got home today?"  There was a slight hesitation and a furtive glance towards her parents.  

Her father once again voiced his encouragement.  "It's ok baby, just tell him what happened."  With a sigh that seemed too large for her small body, Kendra all but whispered a story that mirrored the one her mother had just shared.

With a look to Cheryl, who nodded her agreement, Steve flipped his notebook closed and stood up.  "Thank you and again I am deeply sorry for your loss.  That's all for now.  The coroner will be in shortly and explain what happens once they take Kevin.  We will be in touch, and if you have any questions, please feel free to call."

As he and Cheryl moved down the driveway he stopped briefly and looked back at the house.  He was again struck by the storybook image it presented.  _Yeah, only if Stephen_ _King is writing the story,_ he thought sardonically.  He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down into a pair of dark green eyes.  Kendra had followed them out.  

"Kevin always wanted to be a policeman.   He said policemen always protect people and keep them safe.  Is that true?"  

Steve squatted down to her level.  "We certainly try to do that, Kendra."  As she looked him eye to eye she delivered a verbal arrow to his heart.  "Then why didn't you keep Kevin safe?"  

Steve found himself unable to maintain eye contact.  "I wish I had, Kendra. I wish I had."

By the time Steve and Cheryl finished the paperwork,  routine checks on the family members, and began the process of requesting information on any recent parole's that fit the profile of the crime, it was after 2AM.  Steve pulled into the driveway at the beach house and rested his head on the steering wheel.  He was bone weary.  He climbed out of the car and entered the house as quietly as possible.  He undressed and climbed into bed hoping that in the morning 'the clue' would be discovered.  As he drifted off to sleep, he had the vague feeling that he had missed something, but fatigue overtook him and he knew no more.

Steve jerked awake abruptly and looked at the clock.  4:30AM.  His sleep had been interrupted by a black haired green eyed boy who had asked him why he hadn't kept him safe.  Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands.  "Oh great the victim's going to haunt me – no pressure on this one, he muttered to himself."  He knew there would be no more sleep this night, so he slowly made his way to the bathroom to shower and then head to the precinct.  

Mark woke before his alarm sounded.  He turned to look at the illuminated numbers and saw 6AM.  He had a faint feeling of unease; something was not right.  He slid out of the bed and made his way out into the main rooms of the house.  He stopped near the foyer and listened for signs of activity from Steve's unit.  When he heard nothing, he moved towards the front door to look for Steve's car in the driveway.  He was not surprised that it was gone.  Since he had not heard Steve come in, he didn't know whether he was pulling an all-nighter or had been home.  Mark was well aware that the demands of the job could sometimes involve long hours but that didn't mean he still didn't worry about his obviously full-grown son.  Steve sometimes allowed his work to consume him even at the risk of his own well being.  It was both his son's greatest strength as well as his greatest weakness.  Mark sighed heavily and made his way towards the kitchen to prepare a solitary breakfast in which he was sure he would find no enjoyment.

As Cheryl walked into the precinct she found her partner already at his desk and hunched over a stack of papers.  With a bemused smile on her face, which spoke volumes about her ability to read her partner, she said, "Good morning."  Her only response was a rather brusque grunt.  "What are you doing?"  

A brief nod at the papers and a barely audible "reading" was the reply.

  "Oh, so we are in cave man mode this morning.  Me Steve, me read go away."  

He finally lifted his head and the beginnings of a smile began to curve his lips.  He knew why he loved this woman as his partner, she waded right in and didn't let him get away with anything.  "Sorry, short night.  I am reading through the reports gathered by the officers who canvassed the neighborhood."

  "Anything interesting?"  she asked.  

"Not really, unless you find it as scary as I do that some people seem to have nothing better to do with their day except keep track of each time their neighbors come and go.  Some of these people could do surveillance for us."  

She smiled and settled into the chair by his desk.  "You want to give me some of those?"

Steve leaned back in his chair and blew air through his mouth.  He looked over to Cheryl who was just completing her last report.  "Well?" he asked.  

"Nope, nothing nadda," she responded.  

They were interrupted by Steve's phone ringing.  "Sloan here….Good morning Amanda."  Cheryl observed him as his listened intently.  "Ok we will be there shortly."  He hung up the phone and addressed his partner.  "That was Amanda.  The overnight guy left her the autopsy results.  You ready for a trip to Community General?"  

"Sure,"  she replied.

As they entered the doors to Community General, Steve smiled to himself.  He knew the restraint his father has shown in not calling him already this morning.  He also knew that Amanda would have told him that they were on their way over.  He had no doubt that he would have already reviewed the autopsy report and be waiting in the pathology lab for them to arrive.  As expected, as they pushed open the door to the morgue he saw three familiar expectant faces.  

"Hey, Steve, you missed a great dinner last night," said Jesse.  

"Yeah, Jess.  It just meant that much more for you to eat.  So what have you got for me on the autopsy?"  Amanda tilted her head slightly and in her normal concise way related the results of the autopsy.  Steve shook his head.  "Ok, this just got more confusing.  You're saying that Kevin Rayburn's body showed signs of abuse?"  

"Yes," replied Amanda.  "His ribs show multiple fractures.  Most are old, but there is one new one.  He also has fractures showing in both arms and legs and scars from burns on his torso and thighs.  This child had been horribly abused."  

Steve looked at Cheryl.  "Did anyone we talk to indicate any signs of abuse?"  

"No," said Cheryl.  "I had thought we would go by the school after we left here.  I guess I need to put a call into Child Protective Services as well and make sure they haven't ever been called."  

"Ok let's split up I'll go by the school and then we can meet back at the station later." Steve instructed.  

"Sure," Cheryl replied.  

"Son?" Mark asked.  Steve looked expectantly at Mark.  "I've got a slow day here how about I go to the school with you?"  

"Sure, Dad."  


	2. No Leads To Be Found, Or Are There?

**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 2 - No Leads To Be Found, Or Are There?**

After dropping Cheryl off at the station, Steve and Mark proceeded to Maryville Elementary School.  Upon entering the building, they headed to the administrative office where a rather stern looking woman all but barked, "Can I help you?"  

As Mark stood smiling his most charming smile, Steve slid his badge out of his pocket and introduced himself and explained their purpose for being there.  

"Oh my, yes, we have heard about Kevin," indicated the woman."  Principal Keating has been expecting someone to show up.  If you'll give me a minute, I will let her know you are here.  Excuse my earlier abruptness; you wouldn't believe how the news media has been.  I had thought you might be reporters.  I should have known someone as dignified looking as yourself would never stoop to those kind of techniques," she indicated as she looked directly at Mark with a hopeful smile.  Steve smirked; his father's charm had claimed another victim.  She then proceeded to call the principal and clear the way for a visit.

As Mark and Steve entered the principal's office they shared a grin.  It had been many years since they had shared a visit to the principal's office and those visits had always meant that Steve had once again gotten himself involved in one kind of mischief or another.  As Principal Keating turned to face them, Steve's thoughts shifted.   _Hmmm,_ _perhaps being in trouble with the principal was not such a bad thing.  _He had never had a principal, much less a teacher, who had looked like this.  As she rose from her chair, Steve realized she was tall, almost as tall as he was.  She had wide set dark brown eyes and her hair was sandy blonde.  Her suit had clean cuts that accentuated her tall curvy figure.  A glance at his father confirmed that he had indeed been busted for his thoughts and that Jesse and Amanda would have new ammunition to tease him with.  He grinned slightly and extended his hand in greeting and introduced himself.  His father followed suit and then they all settled into their chairs.  

"Lt. Sloan, how are the Rayburns doing?" asked Miranda Keating. 

 "As well as can be expected," Steve replied.  He continued, "Ms Keating…"

"Please call me Miranda," she interrupted.  

"Sure, ok, Ms Kea… Miranda, let me first say that anything we talk about needs to be kept confidential."  

"I assure you, Lt. Sloan you don't get where I am without understanding the importance of confidentiality," Miranda informed him in a slightly affronted tone.  

"Ms K… I mean Miranda, no offense was meant.  We just have to make sure we say that." He responded with a hopeful smile on his face.  

She relented and smiled back.  Steve then proceeded with the business at hand.  He asked her questions about Kevin's friends, whether there had been any unusual incidents with strangers, and a variety of other mundane questions.  He had come to his final and most difficult item for discussion.  "Miranda, have you ever had any indication that Kevin was being physically abused?" he asked.  

A look of shock crossed the principal's face.  "No, never.  His mother is by all appearances a delightful woman whose life revolves around her children.  She is one of our most reliable volunteers.  I don't know that much about her husband.  I have only met him once.  He travels a great deal with work," she responded.  

As Mark had watched the interview progress his agile mind had not only registered the results of the questions and answers, he had also been able to observe the not so subtle dance that was taking place between the two conversationalists.  He knew his son well and knew when a woman interested him.  He had viewed the same interest from the woman on the other side of the desk.  It still amazed him that his son had not yet found someone to settle down with.  It was obvious that women found him attractive.  He still held out hope for grandchildren.  His son's rising from his chair pulled him back from his thoughts.  Steve extended his hand to thank Miranda for her help, and Mark couldn't help but notice that their hands seemed to remain clasped a tad longer than was necessary.  As they turned to leave, Steve all but tripped over the chair and Mark had to surpress a burst of laughter.  The one thing that was guaranteed to fluster his normally agile son was a woman.

As they reached the door a soft voice called, "Lt. Sloan, what if I think of something and need to reach you?"    

"Oh yeah sure," Steve stuttered.  He reached into his pocket and quickly scribbled his home number beside the other numbers on the card.  "I added my home number on the card, please call me day or night," he said.  The smile she flashed his way was full of sweet promise and Steve felt his face flush and heard a chuckle from his father at his side.  

"I'll take you up on that, Lieutenant," she purred.  

Steve barely avoided mashing his face into the door as in his haste to get out of the office; he neglected to open it completely.  Only Mark's swift intervention in grabbing the door prevented Steve's further embarrassment.  As they excited the office, Mark shook his head and was still chuckling to himself.  

On the drive back to Community General to drop his father off, Steve recycled all that he had read and heard so far that day.  "Dad?"  

"What, Son?" Mark answered.  

"Could you tell by the autopsy if any of the wounds had received medical attention?"  

"It appeared that they had.  It is sometimes difficult to tell with fractures," Mark responded.  

Steve contemplated his next comment.  "You know, Dad, with evidence of prior abuse his parents become the prime suspects in Kevin's murder."  

Mark nodded his agreement and then asked, "What do we know about the parents so far?" 

Steve glanced in his father's direction.  "Mr. Rayburn is a Systems Analyst.  He travels a great deal and is normally only home on the weekends.  His boss had high praise for him and said he is one of his most dedicated and reliable employees.  Of course with these new developments we will have to follow up the call to his employer with a visit.  Mrs. Rayburn is a full time homemaker.  She worked full time as a nurse up until Kevin was born.  We didn't really consider them suspects when we were gathering information yesterday."  

"You know, Steve, his mother would have had the training to treat Kevin's injuries so a visit to the hospital wouldn't have been necessary.  "I can't say it would be the best way to treat fractures but it is possible."  

Steve sighed.  He didn't know which scenario disturbed him the most.  The possibility of a stranger committing such a horrible crime or that a parent could coldly slit the throat of their own child.

Steve walked back into the precinct and nodded a greeting to Cheryl as he crossed to his desk.  She completed her phone call and made some final entries in her notes before moving to join him at his desk.  "What did you get at the school?"  

"Nothing that really helps much.  Had the family ever been reported to Child Protective Services?"  

"No, they had no record on the family."  

Steve leaned back in his chair.  "Did you tell them what we were investigating?"  

"Yes, they plan to send a case worker to the house to conduct an evaluation and talk with Kendra."  

"Good, have we come up with any other relatives?" 

"Mrs. Rayburn has no siblings and her parents were killed in a car wreck when she was 22.  Mr. Rayburn's brother and parents live in Dallas, Texas.  From what I have been able to find out, he sees them whenever his work takes him to the area.  They will be here some time tomorrow for the funeral."  

"We will need to talk with them when they are here," Steve said.  

"I know," Cheryl replied.  "I don't know how much help they are going to be.  When I was talking to Mr. Rayburn's mother I got the impression that they didn't see the family, only Michael.  She had very little to say about Mrs. Rayburn and what she said wasn't very flattering.  She said that her daughter-in-law was clingy and jealous.  I also gathered that they had their first falling out shortly after Kevin was born.  The senior Rayburns didn't think she was a very good mother.  They felt she was inattentive.  The Rayburns had traveled from Dallas to help with the adjustment period but only stayed two days after the baby came home from the hospital.  She said the last time they saw either of the kids was when they came in for Kendra's 5th birthday.  Apparently they didn't approve of the way their grandchildren were being raised.  Harsh words were exchanged and they vowed to never come back."  

Steve rubbed his brow as if that would stop the pounding that had recently taken up residence there.  "Well the 'perfect' family appears to have some tarnish around the edges.  I guess we need to head over to Dynotech and talk with Michael Rayburn's boss in person.  We need to eliminate the parents as suspects so that we can move on to other probabilities."  

Cheryl nodded her agreement and moved towards her desk to gather her purse and notebook.  "Ready?" she asked.  

"Sure, then I would like to stop back by their neighborhood and follow up with a couple of their neighbors.  Even if some of these people didn't actually see any abuse, they surely had to see the results of it."

The trip to Dynotech, though providing no new information, did seem to provide Mr. Rayburn with an airtight alibi.  He had been in a meeting with several colleagues from 8AM until the call had come in about Kevin's death.  Lunch had even been catered in.  His whereabouts seemed to be without question.  As Steve and Cheryl made their way across town towards the Rayburns neighborhood they were both subdued.  Their main suspect was now a 7 months pregnant woman.  Steve found it inconceivable that a woman who was carrying a new life could so violently take one.  She, as well, seemed to have an airtight alibi.  Kendra had been with her the entire time.  His thoughts of Kendra brought him abruptly back to their last conversation.  He hadn't kept her brother safe.  What if she were being abused and Child Protective Services didn't act quickly enough?  

That thought sent a shiver down his spine.  "Cheryl, how quickly did Child Protective Services say they were going to be making their home visit?"  

She looked slightly startled.  "They didn't really say.  Why?"  

He briefly looked at her.  "If one or both of the parents are abusive, then time is of the essence.  We need to get her out of there."  

"Steve, they know their jobs just like we know ours.  Like us they have procedures and rules they have to follow.  The parents are innocent until there is evidence that proves otherwise."  

Steve snorted his disgust with that answer.  "What other proof do they need?  The autopsy shows that Kevin was abused.  He didn't inflict those injuries on himself and there were too many to be normal childhood injuries.  Even if his parents didn't inflict them, they are guilty of neglect for not treating them.  They were too numerous and severe for them not to be aware of them."  

"Steve, calm down.  You're tired and you don't like the fact that the mother is currently our prime suspect."  As she looked at her watch she realized that it was nearly 5pm.  By the time they got to the Rayburn's neighborhood it would be close to 6pm.  "Steve, lets call it a day.  We had a long one yesterday and I doubt that we are going to be able to get much more from the neighbors.  I mean you read the reports.  They were pretty thorough."  

"I know," he said.  "But I just can't stop here.  I will take you back to the precinct and handle it by myself."  

Cheryl shook her head at him.  "Like you think that is going to happen?  Do you really think I am unaware that you just tried to manipulate me?" she asked with a smile.  "You need to try that with someone who doesn't know you like I do.  Now let's go talk to the neighbors and see if we can get you settled down enough to maybe sleep tonight."  His smile at her was a mixture of innocence and affection.  

"I knew I could count on you."

The pounding in Steve's head was increasing as the lady talked.  Her name was Agnes Peabody.  She lived across the street from the Rayburns.  All he could think of was the nosey neighbor who was on the TV show Bewitched.  He now knew when the Rayburns got their paper and mail.  He also knew when their sprinklers kicked on.  When their outside lights came on and went off.  She went on and on and on.  It was so monotonous that he almost missed her next comment.  His head jerked up and he all but barked, "What did you say?"


	3. Oprah, Wheel of Fortune and a Suspect

**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 3 - Oprah, Wheel of Fortune and a Suspect**

Cheryl's head snapped up as well and for the first time in almost an hour, Mrs. Peabody was silent.  She cleared her throat and said, "There is no need to shout, Lieutenant.  I didn't realize you were hard of hearing or I would have spoken more loudly."  She then repeated her previous statement in a much louder tone.  "I said, I thought it was odd when I saw Kendra out front by herself.  Her mother is a bit over protective and rarely leaves her by herself.  I was watching Oprah and she had Dr. Phil on and he was talking about how …."

"Mrs. Peabody," Steve interrupted, "about Kendra?"  

With a slight glare in Steve's direction she continued.  "I was getting to that, I was going to tell you how long she was out front by herself.  I noticed her right when the show came on and didn't see her mother again until about 25 minutes later."  

Steve stopped writing and looked up.  "Mrs. Peabody, forgive me I don't watch much daytime TV what time does Oprah come on?"  

Looking at Steve as if only an alien didn't know what time Oprah came on she replied, "Why 5:00pm just like it always has."  

Steve's jaw muscles tightened and he took a deep breath.  "Mrs. Peabody, why didn't you mention this when the officers questioned you yesterday?"  

With a look that indicated just how stupid a question that was, Mrs. Peabody explained as if talking to a small child.  "Well, Lieutenant, they were here at 7:00pm.  That is when Wheel of Fortune is on and my attention was there not on that mess across the street.  I asked if they could come back later when I wasn't busy but they insisted on talking to me then.  You know I think the whole lot of you could learn some manners."  As she ended her small sermon her expression was one of reprimand.  

_Ok Stevie boy settle down this one needs to be handled with kid gloves, he thought tohimself.  "I'm sorry if we appear rude, Mrs. Peabody; that is certainly not our intent."  A sideways glance at his watch saw it quickly approaching 7:00pm.  _Oh great, my murder investigation is about to get stalled because somebody wants to buy a vowel,_ he thought with a small amount of humor.  "Mrs. Peabody are there any other details that you didn't tell the other officers about?"  _

She sat considering his question for a moment before she responded.  "Well now that you mention it I do recall seeing Kendra running from the side of the house back to the front.  I thought maybe her brother was chasing her but that wasn't the case.  She came back out front and sat on the front porch.  That is where she was when her mother came back."

Cheryl's look to Steve spoke volumes.  They may have gotten the break they needed.  With an ease that acknowledged their time spent working together, they both rose and thanked Mrs. Peabody for her time and made their way out of the house.  As they settled in the car they spoke almost in unison, "Wow!" said Cheryl.  

"Great," said Steve.  

Cheryl tilted her head to one side and a slight frown marked her features.  "Ok, I give what's up?  You don't sound very excited."  Silence was her only response."Yo, Lieutenant Sloan?"  

Steve slowly turned his head and said, "Cheryl, that mother probably killed her son and in all probability her daughter witnessed it.  Are you really looking forward to questioning a 7 year old girl about that?"  

Cheryl's expression sobered.  She had been so excited about a solid lead that she had not yet considered the repercussions of the new evidence.  Her mood changed; she looked to Steve and said, "So what's next?  I doubt that Child Protective Services will act on this and remove Kendra.  We are going to need to talk with her first and see what she tells us."  

Steve ran his hand along his jaw as he considered their next move.  They really had nothing firm.  Mrs. Peabody's story contradicted Mrs. Rayburn and Kendra's story but that was not enough to arrest someone for murder.  They really needed to talk with Kendra alone and he wanted his father with him when that happened.  Mark had a way with children that Steve was under no illusions he shared.  He would also like to get his father's impressions of Mrs. Rayburn.  Reaching a conclusion he said, "Let's call it a night.  Tomorrow morning before I come in, Dad and I will come by the house and talk with the Rayburns.  I want to get his impressions of them.  If things work out maybe I can get he and Kendra together alone while I ask the parents some more questions."  

Cheryl eyed him speculatively.  "Ok that tells me what you are doing in the morning.  What exactly am I am going to be doing?"  

Steve paused before responding.  "I want you to check Mrs. Rayburn out.  I want to know what her former co-workers thought of her.  She volunteers at school what do the other parents think of her and I want you to light a fire under Child Protective Services and get Kendra out of there."  

Cheryl's eyes glinted with amusement.  "Is that all?  Don't you have some laundry that needs to be picked up?  Shall I have your breakfast ready when you get in?"  

Not completely sure if she was teasing or not Steve hesitated before answering.  "Cheryl," he said in his most pleading tone.  "Not to be stereotypical or anything, but you know the majority of her co-workers were probably women, you also know that the majority of the parental volunteers she likely works with are women.  We know I don't do well talking with women….watch it," he said as her mouth turned up in a full fledged smile.  "They would be more comfortable with you.  And as for Social Services, you are more diplomatic then me and do you realize the amount of paperwork," he stopped abruptly before continuing.  "They like you better," he completed with a smile that had been known to melt hearts.  

Cheryl's was no exception.  Oh this man did know how to push her buttons.  No one could do boyish charm like Steve Sloan.  When he looked at her like that with that tone she found it difficult to refuse him anything.  Holding her hands up in mock surrender she replied, "You win.  Whatever you want."  She was laughing now and as she looked back at Steve she could see that he was laughing as well.  _Well at least he looks more relaxed,_ Cheryl though to herself.

After dropping Cheryl off, finalizing his notes from the day's interviews and updating the captain on the status of the investigation it was 10:00pm.  He was tired, hungry and frustrated.  He somehow felt he was failing Kendra.  He suspected her mother was a murderer; how could he leave her in that house?  Even though logic told him he couldn't have prevented Kevin's death, he still felt like he had failed him.  Kendra had told him that Kevin said that policemen kept people safe.  With the suddenness of a sledgehammer pounding him in the head, the irony of that thought hit him.  Even with everything he had been through Kevin still maintained his innocence.  He had been abused on multiple occasions but never lost his belief that policemen protected people.  Up until the day he was murdered, he probably still believed that the police would save him.  Steve felt a surge of anger course through his veins.  He would not fail Kendra

As he entered the house and shut the door behind him, he shut his eyes and briefly leaned back against it.  When he opened his eyes his father stood watching him with a mixture of affection and concern in his eyes.  "Hi, Son," he said.  

"Hey, Dad," Steve replied.  As he started up the steps, Steve asked, "How was your day?"  

As his son joined him on the landing, Mark replied, "Not to bad.   It was a little busy this afternoon but that made the time pass quickly.  Any new leads on the case?"  

As Steve moved towards the kitchen, he responded over his shoulder, "Yeah we had some developments.  One of the neighbors remembers Mrs. Rayburn leaving Kendra alone out front.  She also said that she saw Kendra running from the side of the house back to the front.  The side she ran from is where the driveway is and the fence across there is chain link.  She may very well have seen the murder."  

Mark shook his head.  "Steve, Kevin had suffered physical abuse and Kendra may have suffered that as well but it is a certainty that she has endured mental abuse.  You can't live in a home with an abuser and not suffer it.  If she saw the death of her brother; she may be too traumatized to actually remember it."  Steve nodded his agreement.  "I know, Dad, that's why I want you to go with me tomorrow.  I would like to get your impressions of the mother, but mainly I would like for you to talk with Kendra.  I will be following up with some questions for her parents so you could probably get her alone."  

Mark nodded his agreement.  "I would be glad to go.  My concern right now is you.  I kept a plate warm for you.  We can talk more while you eat."  

Steve smiled his appreciation at his father.  "Thanks, Dad."

After eating and talking with his father, Steve went downstairs to take a shower and go to bed.  It was after 1am when he finally climbed into bed.  He wanted to be at the Rayburn's by 9am so he was in for another short night.  As he lay back, his mind was still racing.  He lay quietly and breathed deeply trying to clear his head so that sleep would come.  Though it took a while, sleep eventually claimed him.  It was not to last long though.  Once again Kevin Rayburn came to ask him why he hadn't kept him safe.  Steve jerked awake and looked at the clock.  The glowing numbers seemed to mock him with the same number as before 4:30am.  "I'm sorry, kid, I'm really sorry," he muttered under his breath.  As with his previous rude awakening, he knew his sleep was done.  He stumbled over to the couch and flipped on the TV.  _Maybe if he watched some shows he would be able to carry on a conversation with Mrs. _Peabody the next time they talked,_ he thought wryly.  Much to his surprise he drifted off to sleep was roused by his father banging on his door.  He jerked much the same as he had when he overslept for school and his father roused him in a similar fashion.  "Coming, Dad," he replied sleepily.  He opened the door to find Mark fully clothed and ready to go.  Mark couldn't help himself; he had to laugh.  The large man before him more resembled the small rumpled child he had been, rather than a tough homicide detective.  If only some of the thugs he had arrested could see him now.  Steve muttered an apology and told his Dad to give him 30 minutes.  Still laughing to himself Mark made his way upstairs to wait for his son.  _

True to his word, Steve came up the steps 30 minutes later.  His hair was still wet and he was tucking his shirt into his jeans and clipping his gun onto his belt as he made his way towards his father.  Mark stopped working on the crossword puzzle from the morning paper and looked over the top of his glasses at Steve and said, "You know, Son, oversleeping at this stage in your life doesn't mean a trip to the principal's office like it did when you were in school."  

Much to Mark's amusement Steve jerked and blushed.  "Dad, she was someone we needed to interview for the case and nothing more.  I overslept because I turned my alarm off and then dozed off on the couch.  It had nothing to do with Miran…., I mean Ms Keating."  

As Mark rose from his desk he continued to laugh.  "Whatever you say, Son.  Are you ready to go?"  While still shoving his shirt into his jeans Steve nodded yes.

As they approached the Rayburn's home Mark commented on the Norman Rockwell qualities of the neighborhood.  Steve told his father he had experienced similar thoughts when he traveled through the area the day of the murder.  As they pulled into the driveway, Steve resisted the urge to look across the street to see if Agnes Busybody was looking out the window.  He had decided on the new name for her this morning while he had been showering.  He just had to hope that when he talked with her again he wouldn't let the new name slip out.  

As they got out of the car Steve took a moment to look around.  Things looked so normal no one would ever dream that a child was being abused behind the walls of this house.  He and Mark moved towards the house and as they approached the front door Steve felt one of his internal alarms going off.  The front door was ajar.  Holding his hand behind him to stop his father Steve motioned towards the door and indicated that his father should wait on the porch.  Mark nodded his understanding.  

Steve stepped through the door drew his gun and moved slowly into the house.  He had only moved a few steps when he felt someone behind him.  He jumped and swung his gun around only to find his father behind him smiling sheepishly.  Steve dropped his gun to his side and whispered, "I told you to stay on the porch."  

Mark shrugged his shoulders and said, "I figured maybe you could use the backup."

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, Steve said, "Ok, but stay behind me and at the first sign of trouble I want you out of here.  Understood?"  

Mark bobbed his head in agreement.  As they moved through the house Steve noticed nothing out of place.  As they moved deeper into the house, Steve thought he could make out noises coming from the family room.  As he entered the room his gaze first fell on the pair of feet he could see sticking out from behind the couch.  He heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him and looked around the rest of the room.  There standing in the doorway between the kitchen and family room stood Sharon Rayburn.  Standing in front of her was Kendra and in her hand she held a gun that was pointed directly at Steve's chest. 


	4. A Murderer Revealed

**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 4 - A Murderer Revealed**

Mark's sharp intake of breath had alerted Steve to the danger and also reminded him that his father was now in harms way.  Steve moved slightly so that his body completely covered his father's.  Steve smiled a small tight smile.  "Mrs. Rayburn, please put down the gun before someone gets hurt."  

As she pinned him with her gaze she stated simply, "Someone already got hurt, Lieutenant.  Actually someone got dead," she laughed.  

Steve knew he needed to proceed carefully and get both Kendra and his dad out of the room.  A more difficult problem was how do you subdue a woman with a gun who also happens to be 7 months pregnant.  From behind him, Steve heard Mark shift positions.  He had moved out from behind Steve and towards Mrs. Rayburn.  Steve quickly nodded his disapproval of this course of action but Mark continued on.  

"Mrs. Rayburn," Mark spoke drawing her attention and the gun his way.  "What happened here today?"  

She sighed slightly and talking almost as if to herself, "I guess it doesn't really matter anymore.  Both of the evil ones are dead now.  I could have had a real career but he married me and got me pregnant and then made me quit work.  All to take of that little brat that looked just like him.  He was gone all the time probably having affairs with other women and I was stuck here with HIS son.  He was going to be just like his father.  He was already disrespectful.  I picked him up from school that day and he asked what we were having for supper.  Can you imagine the nerve to assume that I would feed him.  He was not worthy of my time.  I was here to cook, clean and have sex.  I meant nothing to him.  The boy was just like him.  I decided right then that he had to be stopped.  Kendra and I needed to be free."  

Steve knew then that she was mentally unbalanced.  Her resentment of her husband had been transferred to her son.  What was he to do?  He had to worry about his father and Kendra and he couldn't risk shooting Mrs. Rayburn for fear of harming her unborn child.  He was faced with a series of impossible choices.  In the end the decision was made for him.  As if sensing his turmoil, Mrs. Rayburn looked back towards him and in the same instance swung the gun back towards his chest.  Mark screamed a warning but Steve's fear of harming the baby prevented him from using his gun.  Mrs. Rayburn pulled the trigger twice in quick succession.  The first bullet hit Steve in the upper right arm the second hit him high in the right side of the chest.  His thought as he crumpled to the ground was, "Damn she's a good shot." 

As the initial shock of the wounds wore off, Steve became aware of his father calling his name.  He looked up and saw Mrs. Rayburn shifting her gaze and the gun back towards his father and Kendra.  _Kendra, how had she gotten with his father? he asked himself.  _She must have run when her mother shot me,_ was the response from his muddled mind.  _

Things seemed to move in slow motion from there.  As the gun swung towards his father and Kendra, Steve forced himself into a sitting position and aimed his gun towards the arm that she held her gun in.  As he pulled the trigger, the reverberation sounded ten times louder than normal.  He saw the gun fall, then the arm dropped and finally the body fell to the floor.

His father's worried face was in front of him, telling him to lie back.  He complied but reached his left arm towards his father and said, "Dad, please you have to check on Mrs. Rayburn and the baby."  

As he patted Steve on the arm, Mark fumbled in his jacket for his cell phone and placed first a call to 911, and then a call to Cheryl.  He put his handkerchief on the shoulder wound and moved Steve's left hand over the wound to apply pressure.  He then moved over to Mrs. Rayburn.  

Steve's bullet had hit her in the shoulder.  It was bleeding heavily and Mark knew at that moment the child was at risk.  Between the trauma to the body and the blood loss, the situation was critical.  From across the room Steve asked, "How is she, Dad?"  

Mark shook his head and said, "Not good, Son.  She's losing a lot of blood."  

Steve moved as if to get up and grimaced with pain.  Mark quickly moved back towards him and placed a restraining hand on his uninjured shoulder.  "Steve, stay where you are.  You are in no condition to be moving around."  As Mark spoke, he heard the sounds of sirens as they got closer "Thank God."  

"Dad," Steve gasped.  "I forgot about Michael Rayburn.  Is he still alive?"  Mark as well had forgotten about the man behind the couch.  As he moved toward the couch and observed the body no further examination was needed.  His eyes were open and he had a neat clean bullet wound right between the eyes.  She had taken no chances that he would survive.  She had executed him as cleanly as she had their son.  

As he pulled his eyes away from the body, he noticed Kendra moving towards Steve.  She stopped a few feet in front of him and in a voice that trembled with unshed tears this time delivered a verbal bullet through his heart.  "You shot my Mommy.  Why did you do that?  You didn't help Kevin and then you shot my Mommy.  Kevin was wrong policemen don't keep people safe, they only hurt them."  She dropped her eyes to the floor and wrung her hands.  After a brief pause she looked back up, held Steve's gaze, and all but whispered, "You shot my Mommy."  She then turned away and walked across the room to kneel beside her mother.  

Steve looked up to find his father watching him and found himself unable to maintain eye contact.  His father started to move towards him but was interrupted by the arrival of an ambulance crew and the arrival of Cheryl.  Mark directed the first crew towards the body of Mrs. Rayburn.  He intercepted Cheryl as she made a beeline towards her fallen partner.  "Cheryl, we need the coroner as well.  Michael Rayburn is dead."  

Cheryl was stunned.  'Did Steve shoot him?"  

"No," Mark said.  "His wife did."  

Cheryl shook her head.  "How's Steve?"  

Mark looked again towards his son.  "Not good.  The wounds are bad enough, but Cheryl he just shot a pregnant woman in front of her 7 year old daughter.  How do you deal with that?"  Cheryl was saved from a response by the arrival of a second ambulance crew.  

Knowing that Mrs. Rayburn was in good hands, Mark could concentrate on his son.  The paramedics were cutting away his shirt and applying bandages to the wounds.  Mark was pleased to see that the bleeding had already lessened.  Mark leaned down towards him and spoke softly, "Steve?"  As his son's eyes fluttered open Mark almost wished he hadn't opened them.  His son's eyes were filled with pain.  Mark couldn't tell whether the pain was from his wounds or emotional.  He suspected it was a combination of both.  He watched as Steve's eyes closed again and saw his body relax as the light sedative the paramedics had given him took effect.  Mark sighed and once again pulled out his cell phone to make a call.  This time to Jesse to let him know what had happened and that they were on their way. 

Mark sat in Steve's room and spoke quietly with Jesse.  Steve had come through the surgery fine.  Though his wounds would be painful and require some physical therapy, they were by no means life threatening.  Not for the first time, Mark breathed a sign of relief as Steve had once again figuratively dodged a bullet.  Mark's concerns this time were rooted in his son's emotional well being.  The comments Kendra had directed towards his son still bounced around his head and he had not yet even begun to consider how he would tell Steve that Mrs. Rayburn had lost her baby.  Mark's fears about the trauma to her system compromising the baby had been accurate.  The mother had survived.  The baby had not.  Considering the mother's attitude towards men, Mark had to wonder what kind of life the baby boy would have led if he had survived.  He wondered if death now might be more humane then leading a life of misery and pain.  His attention was drawn back by Jesse's question.  "I'm sorry, Jesse what did you say?"  

Jesse smiled.  "I asked if you were going home tonight.  He really is going to be fine and I suspect he will sleep through the night.  You look like you could use the rest."  

Mark smiled faintly.  "I am tired, Jesse but I just don't think I can leave him yet.  I want to be the one to tell him about the baby and I'm afraid that will be the first thing he asks when he comes around."  I am not looking forward to telling him but I think it needs to come from me."  

Not for the first time Jesse was envious of Steve.  Jesse was confident in his ability to match up with Steve when it came to their chosen careers, sports and with women.  The one area he never stood a chance was in Steve's relationship with his father.  Mark and Steve's relationship could be described very simply.  It was based on love, trust and friendship.  Jesse knew that he would never have the pleasure of that kind of relationship with his father.  Mark knew his son needed him sometimes even before Steve himself knew it.  Jesse smiled at his friend and mentor.  "I have the early shift in the morning.  Do you need anything before I go?"  

Mark, as always appreciative for the young doctor, smiled simply and said, "No, Jesse I'm fine.  I will see you in the morning."  Jesse patted Mark on the shoulder and left.

With the first rays of light streaming through the window, Mark shifted his position in his chair and stretched.  His gaze moved towards the bed and rested upon his son.  It took a moment for it to register that Steve's eyes were open.  Mark moved from his chair to the side of the bed.  He gently placed his hand on his son's arm and squeezed lightly.  "How do you feel, Son?"  

Steve continued to stare into space.  When he spoke his voice was hoarse.  "Did the baby make it?" he asked just as Mark had known he would.  

Mark patted Steve's arm and gently broke the news to him.  Steve said nothing just nodded his head and closed his eyes.  "Steve?"  

The only response was a quietly uttered "I'm tired, Dad."

It was several hours later before Steve roused again.  Mark secretly suspected that he had been awake on other occasions but had not bothered to open his eyes.  Jesse and Amanda had joined him and they had talking amongst themselves.  When Mark noticed Steve's eyes open he stopped mid sentence and moved once again to his son's side.  "Welcome back."  

Steve knew he needed to respond to his father; he heard the worry in his voice.  He slightly turned his head and said "Hi, Dad."  

Mark, encouraged by these small improvements, asked "How are you feeling?"  

Steve's response was an automatic "Fine."  

"Son, Jesse needs to examine you.  Are you up for that?"  

Again Mark received an automatic response, "Yes."  

Jesse made his way to the bed.  "Hey, big guy.  I see you forgot to duck again."  

Steve smiled lightly at his friend's teasing manner.  The exam was painful for all in the room.  Steve was pale and sweating by the time Jesse was done, and the others in sympathy with the discomfort he had just suffered looked much the same.  Jesse wrote entries in his chart as he spoke.  "You're looking good, Steve.  Your arm and shoulder will need a little therapy, but overall you were lucky.  I should be able to send you home in the next couple of days."  

Steve looked incredulously at Jesse.  "Lucky Jess, I shot a pregnant woman.  I killed her baby.  How is that lucky?" he all but sobbed.


	5. Ifs

**Imposible**** Choices**

**Chapter 5 - Ifs**

After much badgering Steve had persuaded Mark to go home.  He was grateful for the reprieve of the constant scrutiny of his father's eyes.  He needed this time alone to try and bring his jumbled thoughts and emotions into some sense of order.  The constant hovering of his father, Jesse and Amanda had become more difficult to endure with each passing moment.  He didn't want nor deserve their reassurances.  They had talked endlessly about how he had no other choice.  In his mind there always had to be another choice.  His thoughts were filled with the word "if".  _If I hadn't overslept we would have gotten there earlier and maybe prevented the entire situation.  Michael Rayburn and his unborn son might both still be alive.  If _I hadn't been preoccupied with Mr. Rayburn's body I might have seen her sooner and reacted more quickly.  If his dad has stayed on the front porch like he asked him to he wouldn't have been in harms way.  If Child Protective Services had picked up Kendra she wouldn't have been caught up in the middle of another violent crime.  If he had asked Cheryl to meet him there instead of sending her off on another task.  If he had talked to the neighbor sooner he would have known Mrs. Rayburn lied.  _Steve knew with a crystal clear certainty that he had blown this case.  Three people were dead a mother was in all likelihood insane and a young girl was probably scarred for life.  His thoughts turned once again to the baby.  The child that could have been.  __Well you certainly took care of that didn't you, Lt. Sloan.   __I wonder what Kevin will have to say to you next time he shows up in your dreams.  With that final thought Steve's tortured mind could take no more and promptly shut down._

He didn't know how long he lay there his face void of any expression.  A slight sound at the door caught his attention and he turned his head to see Cheryl standing there.

"Hey, partner."

With a look that was as dark as a moonless night Steve responded, "Hey."

"Feel up to talking?" she inquired.

He nodded yes even though the sigh that escaped his body indicated no.  For the first time Cheryl was uncomfortable in Steve's presence.  She had thought that impossible.  From the first day they met she had felt an instant rapport with him and they worked seamlessly as partners.  She had his back and he had hers.  She trusted him above all others.  Now she found herself unsure of how to proceed.

"Steve, I would wait on this but the District Attorney is trying to decide how to proceed with the case against Mrs. Rayburn and he wants your statement before he makes that decision.  I have already got your father's statement.  With the help of a therapist I talked with Kendra.  I just need yours."

Steve nodded his understanding.  "I know, Cheryl.  It's fine.  Have they done an evaluation on Mrs. Rayburn yet?"

"Yes, she obviously has some mental issues.  How severe they are remains to be seen.  I think her problems go back a long way.  She had a huge amount of resentment towards her husband.  She blamed him for ruining her career.  She never wanted to be a homemaker but he apparently insisted after Kevin was born.  He felt that a mother's place was at home taking care of the kids, cleaning the house and fixing dinner.  Since he was gone so much she shifted her resentment to Kevin and he became the target for her anger.  I think Michael Rayburn's parents suspected Kevin was being abused but Michael denied it when they asked him about it.  Kendra seems to have escaped her wrath because as a girl she was a kindred spirit in her mother's eyes."_   _

As Cheryl mentioned Kendra's name again her last words to him echoed in his ears.  _"You shot my Mommy."  With a shake of his head as if to clear that small voice from his memory he looked at Cheryl and asked, "What about Kendra?  Do they think she is going to be ok?"_

"They aren't sure, Steve.  She watched her Mother slit her brother's throat and then a little less than two days later she saw her Mother shoot her father between the eyes.  I don't know many adults who could handle that much less a 7 year old child."

"Point taken," he conceded.  "Let's get this over with Cheryl."

"You're sure?" she asked with compassion in her eyes.

"It's not going to get any easier and I would just as soon not have my dad here while we go through this."

Cheryl nodded her agreement and flipped open her notebook.  As Steve described the events of the previous morning Cheryl felt her throat tighten with emotion.  She couldn't imagine ever being in a more difficult situation.  As long as Steve's safety had been the only one in question she knew he would never have fired the shot.  When his father or someone like Kendra were at risk his instincts would have forced him to act.  As he continued his tragic tale Cheryl couldn't help but notice the brightness in his eyes that betrayed the emotions he was trying so desperately to control.  With a deeply drawn breath that caused a grimace to cross his face as it pulled at his wounds he concluded his report.

"So there you have it.  All of the gory details of how I single handedly destroyed an entire family."

"Steve, you are being very unfair to yourself.  You had no good options.  Would you have felt any better if she had shot your father or Kendra?"

"No," he sighed.  "It's not just the fact that I shot her, Cheryl.  It's the way I botched this investigation from the beginning.  I should have talked to the neighbors that day.  I should have pursued the parents as suspects and investigated them further.  I would have found out she had problems."

"Steve, that is speculation.  You don't know how things would have progressed.  You know the old saying hindsight is 20/20.  You followed the leads like you always do.  You identified the murderer it just happened to be….."

"Too late," Steve bitterly interrupted.

"That's not what I was going to say.  Look, Steve you, won't do anybody any good if you continue to beat yourself up over this.  The woman is nuts.  I mean she slit her own son's throat just because he asked about dinner.  Do you really think you are a match for that kind of insanity?"

"Cheryl, I can deal with that.  Logically I know I couldn't have prevented Kevin's death.  I could however have prevented the deaths of Michael Rayburn and the baby.  I could have spared Kendra the trauma of witnessing her father being shot."

Cheryl realizing that they were beginning to talk in circles and seeing the lines of fatigue starting to deepen around Steve's eyes decided to end the visit.  "Steve, you are one of the best cops I know.  I trust you with my life.  I am glad you are my partner because you are able to make decisions like you made in the Rayburn's living room.  Remember that.  I'll stop back by tomorrow to check on you."

Steve smiled slightly.  "Thanks, Cheryl.  I'll talk to you later."

As Cheryl turned to leave she nearly collided with Mark as he entered his son's room.  "Dr Sloan, I was just on my way out."  With a last glance at Steve she waved her goodbyes.

"Steve?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Did Cheryl take your statement?"

"Yeah.  I'm pretty tired, Dad.  I think I would like to rest for awhile.  Ok?"

With a gentle pat to his son's arm Mark indicated his understanding.  He then settled into the chair by the bed to watch his son sleep.


	6. Going Home

**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 6 - Going Home**

Mark sat in the darkened room contemplating the events that had brought him here.  Steve had done the right thing the only thing he could have done.  If only he could get him to see that.  He had woken sporadically during the day but had been less then communicative.  Even visits by Jesse and Amanda had not lightened his mood.  He seemed intent on sinking deeper into his self-imposed prison.  Steve had made him promise that he would go home tonight but he was finding it difficult to leave.  Realizing that he was just delaying the inevitable Mark rose and moved towards the bed.

"Steve?" he gently questioned.

Steve turned his head and looked at his father.  

"Are you sure you want me to go home?  I can just as easily stay here."

Steve shook his head.  "Dad, you're tired.  Go home sleep in your own bed.  I'll be fine.  It's not like I'm going anywhere."

"You'll have one of the nurses call me if you need anything?" Mark asked hesitantly.

Trying to sound reassuring Steve said, "I'll be fine and I'll rest much easier knowing your home getting some much needed rest."

Mark hesitated before reaching out to slightly caress Steve's cheek.  Things had been much easier when the man before him had been a boy.  A loving touch and kind words were able to soothe most all of his wounds.  Things were different now.  Neither a loving touch from his father or all the words of comfort he could offer would heal this wound.  He could only hope that time would be the miracle cure.  "Goodnight, Son.  Sleep well and I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Dad, and don't worry about me I'll be fine."

With one last look Mark left the room to head home.  Home.  His thoughts hung on that word.  The one thing that made it a home, Steve, wouldn't be there, and without his presence, he would just be entering a house.

Left alone again with only his thoughts for company, Steve wanted desperately to be able to sleep.  In sleep he might get some small reprieve from the images that haunted him.  His mind seemed to be like a projector stuck in a loop.  Images of Kevin, Kendra, Michael and Sharon Rayburn and, most disturbingly, a faceless baby seemed to flicker through his mind at regular intervals.  He felt a presence beside his bed and turned to find Amanda looking down at him.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hi," Steve responded.  "Shouldn't you be home with the boys?"

"The boys are fine.  I'm more concerned about you."

"Amanda," he started to respond and then stopped.  

Amanda cocked her head to one side and arched an eyebrow at him.  "You were saying?"

He began again. "Amanda, I will be ok.  I'm just …" he trailed off unable to complete the sentence.

"You're just what Steve?  Human?  You were placed in a position that no one should have to deal with.  No matter what decision you made someone was going to get hurt.  Do you think it would have been any easier if you had allowed your father or Kendra to have been shot?"

Steve couldn't prevent the anger that tinged his voice.  "Amanda, I really don't want to talk about this anymore tonight.  I just want to go to sleep."

Realizing that if she upset him too much he would be unable to rest Amanda relented.  Leaning in she gently touched her lips against his cheek.  "Steve, please don't shut us out.  We love you and only want to help.  I'll be back tomorrow.  Please try and get some rest."

"Goodnight, Amanda."

Steve focused on a spot on the far wall and willed his mind and body to cease their activity.  Though it took a little time he gradually began to relax until sleep overcame him.  As had become the norm for his sleeping, he was rudely awakened by Kevin Rayburn, but this time Kevin had brought a friend.  In his arms wrapped in a small blanket was a child.  Steve strained to make out the face but as Kevin pulled the blanket back from the baby's head Steve saw that the baby had no face.  In its place was vast blackness.  At this point Steve once again jerked awake.  As his eyes focused in the dim light of the hospital room, Steve had to admit the kid was prompt.  The clock on the wall said 4:30am.  The bed suddenly felt very small and Steve felt like it was closing in on him.  He slid to the side and placed his feet flat on the floor.  With a concentrated effort he pushed himself to an upright position.  A wave of dizziness caused him to momentarily sway.  His natural balance then kicked in and he took one small cautious step towards the recliner in the corner of the room.  Each step sapped his limited reserves and by the time he reached the chair he was weak in the knees and panting slightly.  He more collapsed then sat in the chair.  He remembered that after he had moved to the couch after the last dream he had been able to sleep.  Maybe the change of scenery would once again have the same affect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jesse pushed open the door of Steve's room the next morning, he momentarily panicked when his eyes fell upon the empty bed.  His visual search of the rest of the room revealed the location of his patient.  Steve was slouched in the chair his head hanging towards his good shoulder.  Steve's right arm hung loosely by the side of the chair.  Jesse grimaced.  When Steve lifted his arm back up the increased blood flow back to his wounded arm and shoulder was going to be excruciating.  Moving quietly so as not to startle his patient Jesse walked towards him and then softly whispered his name, "Steve?"  When he got no response he reached out and touched Steve lightly on the shoulder.  "Steve?"

Steve moaned and moved slightly.  Without opening his eyes he voiced a question.  "What do you want Jesse?"

"I'm wondering why you're sleeping in the chair?  I'm wondering why you got out of the bed without assistance?"

Steve opened his eyes and through the blurry mist saw the concerned face of his best friend.  "I just wasn't comfortable in the bed."

"Any particular reason?" Jesse inquired.

"No none that I want to talk about,"  Steve replied shortly.

Deciding to let it slide for the moment, Jesse continued his visual examination of his reluctant patient.  He looked tired but didn't appear to be in any pain.  "I was thinking about sending you home today.  Are you up for that?

Steve shifted in the chair and raised his right arm up and rested it in his lap.  Jesse's silent prediction came rapidly true.  Steve grimaced as the increased blood flow in his arm caused pin pricks of pain to begin spreading through his injured arm and shoulder.  

Jesse noticed the grimace of pain but instinctively knew sympathy would not be accepted right now.  Instead he voiced his question again.  "Do you feel well enough to go home today?"

Steve shrugged slightly.  "That's fine, Jesse."  He responded less than enthusiastically.

"You know, Steve, most people get excited when they get to leave the hospital,"  Jesse responded playfully.

Steve quirked a slight smile at him.

_Well that's a little encouraging, _Jesse thought to himself.  "How about you get back in the bed so I can check things out and if they look good I'll get you released?"  Jesse inquired.

Steve nodded and shakily made his way to his feet.  Jesse reached out a hand to steady him and kept the hand in place as they moved towards the bed.  Steve sat down heavily and leaned back against the pillows.  His breath came in short gasps as he fought to regain his composure.  

Jesse waited and silently timed how long it took Steve to recover from the short journey.  Satisfied that the time needed was normal he leaned forward and gently slid Steve's hospital gown off his shoulders and began to examine the wounds.  "These look pretty good.  I don't see any reason we can't get you home.  When is your dad coming back?"

"He didn't really say,"  Steve responded.  "I told him not to hurry, he needed the sleep."

Jesse nodded his agreement.  "Good advice.  I'll get the paperwork started and if he's not here by then I'll take you home."

"Jesse, that's not necessary.  Dad will be here and I can wait till then.  I'm in no hurry to get home."

"Well that's a first," Jesse teased gently.

A sound from the door caught the attention of both of them and they turned to see Mark entering the room.

"Hey, Mark," Jesse greeted.

Mark smiled a greeting.  "How's the patient?"  Mark's question was directed at Jesse but his eyes were firmly fastened on his son.

As Jesse began to update Mark on Steve's condition Steve covertly observed his father.  He still looked tired but a trace of the normal sparkle that filled his eyes was back.  He contemplated what his life would have been like if he had allowed Sharon Rayburn to harm him.  A large void would have been left in his life.  He knew that due to the natural progression of life his father would probably predecease him.  Though his grief would be great he could handle that.  To have his father's death occur as a direct result of Steve's actions was too overwhelming to contemplate any further.  Steve suddenly became aware that the conversation in the room had stopped.  He looked up to find himself the object of two intent gazes.  Despite his rather morose thoughts Steve couldn't stop the smile that spread across his features.  They both wore the same expression.  It was a mixture of medical curiosity, apprehension and deep affection.  He really was in spite of all that had happened recently incredibly blessed.  The warmth of that brief feeling was quickly banished by a small voice that said _"I wasn't blessed and neither was my brother."  The voice was accompanied by the image of Kevin Rayburn and his faceless baby brother._

The abruptness of Steve's change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by his rapt audience.  Mark moved forward and rested his hand on the bed in close proximity to his son's hand.  "You ready to go home, Son?"

"Sure, Dad," came the rather subdued response.

"Do you want me to help you get into your clothes?" Jesse inquired.

Steve shook his head.  "No, why don't you guys go grab some coffee and I'll be ready when you get back."

Both Jesse and Mark knew it would be difficult for Steve to dress and were hesitant to leave.  Steve's sudden rather abrupt departure from the bed and his rather awkward gait as he made his way to the bathroom made his intentions clear.  Reluctantly the two doctors left the room.

****

****


	7. A Father's Fight

**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 7 - A Father's Fight**

It was a typical October morning in Malibu.  The fog from the night before was still visible on the horizon and the air had a slight chill.  Mark stood looking out the window at the lone figure on the deck.  He knew he should go out and encourage him to come in to the warmth of the house but one of the few times Steve ever relaxed was when he was in close proximity to the ocean.  With a deep sigh he opened the door and walked to stand beside his son.  "Good Morning, Son."  There was an almost imperceptible nod of Steve's head to acknowledge his presence.  "There is certainly a chill in the air this morning."  Again the slight head movement.   "Steve, I know you are feeling better but you are a long way from recovered won't you please come inside where it's warmer?"  Finally Steve turned to look at his father and as their gazes locked Mark almost looked away from the tear stained face.  He had never seen his strong stoic son look so devastated.  How could he possibly help him?

Mark did break eye contact with his son.  He didn't want Steve to view the despair that lived there.  Despair that was becoming more difficult to hide.  Steve's wounds were healing nicely.  Physically be was becoming stronger but Mark knew that his son was far from well.  It had been two weeks since the tragic events at the Rayburn house and his son had grown more despondent with each passing day.  Mark had utilized all his resources.  Jesse and Amanda had been out for dinner with the hope that a little normalcy would help Steve cope.  Cheryl had been by as well.  Though Steve would never admit it Mark knew that he was experiencing nightmares.  He had heard his son cry out on multiple occasions both after he had retired for the night and when he had drifted off to sleep on the couch during the day.  The sound of that cry, a tormented sob, almost caused Mark physical pain.  He had suggested professional help but Steve had flatly refused.  With his options waning and his fear for his son's well being increasing Mark changed tactics.  With help from Amanda and Jesse he applied the same tenacity and intelligence that they used to help Steve solve crimes.  Mark thoughts strayed to that first meeting.  It had been difficult to arrange.  He didn't want Steve to overhear their discussions so they had decided to meet at the hospital.  It was especially trying for Mark because it was the first time he had left Steve alone.  Though he was focused on the discussions his thoughts were never far from his son.  He was grateful that Cheryl had been able to join them.  Her insights and resources were invaluable.

_"Mark, how's he doing?"  Amanda questioned compassionately._

_With a deep sigh Mark responded.  "About the same honey, we have to do something or we are going to lose him."_

_"Mark, I can't stand to see him this way.  I've never had a problem talking with Steve before, but now I don't know what to say to him.  I'll help in any way I can," commented an obviously distressed Jesse._

The subdued group had then settled down to discuss the matter at hand.  It was during those discussions that Mark had received a call from Kendra's therapist Dr. Logsdon.  Mark had been staying in contact with Kendra Rayburn's therapist.  It seemed the young girl had been systematically programmed by her mother.  She had actually witnessed all the abuse that had been inflicted on Kevin and in a confirmation of Steve's fears she had admitted to witnessing her mother slit her brother's throat.  Such was her conditioning she could repeat the occurrences of abuse with a cold detachment that had actually startled the professionals who were working with her.  Her therapy sessions had revealed a deeply disturbed child who felt empathy for her brother but felt her mother was justified in her actions.   He had informed Mark that Kendra had revealed some horrifying details about the day her father was shot.  He had felt that Mark would most definitely be interested.  Mark's memories shifted away from the meeting with the group and moved to the session he had observed between Kendra and her doctor.

_"Kendra, what can you tell me about what happened to your Daddy?"  Dr. Logsdon asked._

_"Mommy shot him," she replied tonelessly.  "He had to be stopped."_

_"Did you see her shoot him?"_

_"Yes," she replied matter of factly.  "Mommy said they all had to die."_

That simple statement had been the start of a series of revelations that had cemented Mark's decision on what they should do to help Steve.  Mark felt compelled to confirm the details of Kendra's story.  To do this he would need to talk with Sharon Rayburn and he would also need Amanda's assistance.  Much to his horror Sharon Rayburn not only confirmed what Kendra has told them she had done so with a glee that had so discomfited Mark he had become physically ill.

The process was difficult because a member of their team was not involved.  They all missed Steve's insights, knowledge and humor.  They had come up with a plan that would either allow Steve to come to terms with what had happened or possibly push him over the edge to a complete breakdown.  Mark ultimately made the choice on his own.  In his mind it was actually an easy decision.  He felt that if things continued as they were now his son was likely to suffer a complete breakdown anyway.  Another determining factor was the new rather startling information.  

Settling both his thoughts and his gaze back on the huddled figure in front of him Mark set his plan in motion.  "Do you feel up to a little trip today?"  He inquired while intently watching his son.

Steve frowned as he turned to regard his father.  "A trip where?"

Mark hesitated slightly then began.  "I have been talking with the therapists who are working with Sharon and Kendra Rayburn.  During their sessions they have relayed information that has shed further light on the events that took place that morning."

Steve pinned his father with a sharp angry glare.  "Why are you bothering the Rayburns, Dad?  Haven't they been through enough already?  Don't you think we should just leave them alone?"

"Son, I can't leave them alone.  I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself with unwarranted feelings of guilt.  If you won't fight for yourself I love you enough to do it for you."  Mark's voice broke with the threat of unshed tears.

Steve sighed and the gaze he turned back on his father was again filled with the deep despair that had begun to haunt his father.  "Dad, I understand you want to help.  Believe me I appreciate all that you, Jesse and Amanda have done but no matter what you do you can't change the fact that I killed that baby."

Mark winced at the pain and torment that were conveyed in his son's voice.  For a moment his faith and determination in his plan faltered.  This was a game of high stakes poker and the pot was Steve's well being.  This was a game that neither Mark nor Steve could afford to lose.  "Please, Steve."  Mark all but begged.

Steve looked up into the face of the man who he respected above all others.  He saw the pain there.  Pain he had caused.  If making this trip with his dad would help ease that pain it was the least he could do.  "Alright, Dad.  Just tell me where we are going."

Mark released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.  He had made it through the first step.  With a reassuring smile he continued on.  "We need to go to the hospital.  Jesse, Amanda and Cheryl will meet us there."

Steve's questioning look reflected his curiosity.  What had his father and friends been up to?  He knew them well enough to know that they would not sit by idly while he wallowed in his own self pity.  "Why the hospital, Dad?"

Mark had recognized the change in Steve.  He could read his son well and knew that he was now curious.  Though only a small change it was still enough to make Mark's heart a little lighter.  "Just trust me on this one, Steve."  

As they pulled into the parking lot of Community General the emotions in the car were distinctly different.  Mark was riding a high.  He not only had gotten his son to come with him, but he felt confident that with the information they had uncovered he could free his son from his guilt.  Steve on the other hand had slipped further into a non communicative state.  With a feeling of dread Steve exited the car.


	8. The Truth Is Revealed

**Impossible Choices**

**Chapter 8 - The Truth Is Revealed**

As Steve and Mark made their way down the hallway towards the doctors' lounge they encountered many staff members who knew them both.  Steve couldn't help but notice the pity that filled their eyes when they looked at him.  _So that's what I have become.  _he thought.  _I have become an object of pity.  When you see people huddled and whispering I'm the subject of their conversation.  _Aren't you proud of yourself_?  he asked himself.  As they approached the door of the doctor's lounge the voices he heard filled him with a comforting warmth.  It gave him a sense of the way his life had been.  __Can I get that back?  he asked himself.  __"Do you deserve it back?"  asked the voice his mind had assigned to Kevin Rayburn.  With a shake of his head he followed his father into the room._

Mark beamed, this was going to work.  He refused to believe otherwise.  With this team working together there was no obstacle they couldn't tackle.  Everyone exchanged greetings and they settled around the table.  "Steve," Mark began.  "You know I have been pursuing the events of the morning at the Rayburn house."  Steve nodded his understanding.  "During the investigation Kendra Rayburn relayed and Sharon Rayburn confirmed a crucial piece of evidence.  Steve, you did not kill that baby.  The baby was dead before you and I even got there."  

Steve's gasp and startled expression stopped his father.  "Not my fault?  Already dead?"  He was grateful he was sitting down because he didn't think his legs would have supported him.  "I don't understand, Dad?  Please?"  Steve's voice reflected his torment.

Mark reached a steadying hand towards his son's arm and applied a gentle reassuring pressure.  "Yes, Son, the baby was already dead.  You remember that Sharon Rayburn was a licensed nurse?"  Steve nodded his affirmation.  "She knew the baby was a boy.  As best we can tell after she snapped and killed Kevin she made the decision that she and Kendra needed to be on their own.  Her husband and her unborn child had to die.  The morning we arrived there she had already completed that plan we just didn't know it.  It was obvious that Michael Rayburn was dead.  What was less obvious was the fact that the baby was already dead as well.  Sharon Rayburn had injected a liquid iron supplement into her unborn baby.  She knew exactly what dose would kill the child but leave her unharmed.  Kendra witnessed it and Sharon Rayburn confirmed it.  With Cheryl's help we got approval to exhume the body of the baby and Amanda's autopsy removed all doubt.  The tissue samples we took from the baby's body contained high traces iron."  Steve looked to Amanda who nodded her affirmation.

"Dad, I don't understand.  The original autopsy report indicated the baby died due to the trauma of the shooting."  Steve's tone was a mixture of disbelief and hope.

Amanda looked to Mark who nodded his approval.  "Steve," she began.  "When the original autopsy was performed the cause of death seemed pretty clear.  No tests were done on any organs or tissue samples.  There didn't seem to be a need.  We were wrong.  I also was able to confirm the needle mark on the baby's body where the injection took place."  She allowed Steve a moment to absorb what they had told him.  "Steve, you didn't kill this baby," She voiced with conviction.

Steve's mind was reeling.  He found himself unable to comprehend or process everything that had just transpired.  He looked down at his hands he had them clasped so tightly that pain was radiating up into his injured arm and shoulder.  He used the pain as his focus point and gathered his turbulent thoughts and emotions.  He looked up at the assembled group with hope filled eyes.  His gaze focused on Cheryl.  Unlike the others she was bound by law.  She couldn't fabricate a story to make him feel better.  "Cheryl, this is all true?"  

"You know it partner," The warm smile that lit her face comforted him.

Steve's gaze once again dropped to his hands.  _Could this be true?  The baby was dead, that was a tragedy that he couldn't change.  He still would have to deal with that.  But could it really be true that he had not directly caused that death?  _It was all so overwhelming.  He looked up and found a pair of clear blue eyes locked on him.  Those eyes were filled with love, trust and pride.  He used them to help stabilize himself.  For the first time in two weeks he felt the burden of guilt lifting from his spirit.  With a smile that dazzled the occupants of the room he expressed his joy.


	9. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

It had been two months since the horrible morning at the Rayburn house.  Steve still suffered from some residual feelings of guilt over how the entire incident had transpired.  He no longer blamed himself for the death of the baby but he still felt that he had not handled the case as well as he should have.  The constant reassurances of his father and his friends were a soothing balm that had helped him come to terms with those feelings.  They were a part of him but they didn't control him.  He had been back to work for a little over two weeks and the time spent working cases with Cheryl had been a key part to his recovery.  His thoughts were interrupted by his father calling his name.  He took one last look in the mirror.  "Coming, Dad."

He ran up the steps to find his father waiting expectantly in the foyer.  "You don't want to be late," Mark stated.

"I know, Dad, I just got distracted.  I still have plenty of time," Steve responded.

Mark twinkled and Steve's face turned a crimson red.  No matter how old he got his father could still make him blush like a sixteen year old.  "Dad," he all but whined.  "Don't look at me that way."

Mark's response was somewhat muffled by the laughter that tried to escape him.  His adult son stood squirming in front of him like a teenager heading out for his first date.  "I'm sorry, Steve.  So where are you and the lucky lady heading tonight?"

Steve smiled.  "We are going to Dinardo's.  I thought it was a good place for a first date."

Mark had to suppress a smirk.  He knew that Amanda had suggested the location.  His joy that his son was finally getting back to normal knew no bounds.  Jesse had teased him unmercifully about tonight's date.  That alone was a testament to the progress Steve had made.  The other indication had been when Steve had broached the subject of pursuing a date with Miranda Keating.  Mark thought back to the day in her office when he had noticed the mutual attraction.  The fact that Steve could separate his attraction to her from the reason for their initial meeting was a true indicator of where he was at in his recovery.  "Well have a good time and don't be out to late."  Mark's voice was full of barely suppressed humor.

Suddenly suspicious Steve looked at his father.  "Dad, Jesse and Amanda aren't hiding outside somewhere to follow me are they?"

Mark laughed.  Though it would have been like them, Steve's love life or lack of one was the topic of many discussions.  A date always generated more interest than it probably should have.  "No, Steve, as far as I know they are both working."

Steve released a sigh of relief.  "Good I don't need any help scaring off women.  I'd like to at least make it through the first date with her."  "Goodnight, Dad."

"Goodnight, Son.  Have a good time.  I'll see you in the morning," Mark responded.  As he watched his son's broad shoulders disappear through the door Mark reflected for a moment on the events that had brought them to this evening.  Sharon Rayburn would never stand trial, she was quite obviously insane.  She would be institutionalized the rest of her life.  The senior Rayburn's had expressed an interest in adopting Kendra.  Though they were concerned with her overall mental health they felt they could not abandon her.  What had happened to her was not her fault.  The entire incident would forever be etched in Mark's memory not only for the tragedy of a family lost, but more importantly for the fact it had nearly cost him his son.

**The End**

Author's Note:

Thanks so much for your encouragement and acceptance of my first story.  It has been a rewarding and incredible experience.  I once again want to thank the wonderful lady who has become a special friend.  She gave me the confidence to do this and I will always be grateful.


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